


Phantom

by DarkSecrets666



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: AU, Drama & Romance, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Ghosts, M/M, Psychic Abilities, Romance, Spirits, Supernatural - Freeform, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-06-24 06:26:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19718044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkSecrets666/pseuds/DarkSecrets666
Summary: 'Welcome home, Sebastian' was written in glitter on a poster held up by an attractive, middle aged woman at Gatwick airport. Sebastian Michaelis has been forced to move to England after his mother marries a wealthy older man. If a new dad wasn't bad enough, he has to deal with the horrors of the old house. It comes with Ghosts.





	1. Chapter 1

**_Inspired by a book but not following the story_ **

* * *

'Welcome home, Sebastian' was written in glitter on a poster held up by an attractive, middle aged woman at Gatwick airport. Her maroon eyes peered eagerly at the passengers flooding off the plane from sunny California and smiled in delight as she spotted a tall, dark-haired young man who resembled the woman right down to the reddish flecks in their eyes. It only took a moment for the young man to spot who could only be his mother holding the glittery greeting.

He gave her a half-hearted wave as he slumped over and gave her a hug. "Hi, mom," he greeted and kissed the woman on the cheek.

His mother beamed at him. "Sebastian, honey," she pushed her son's unkept hair out of his face and took his bags, "Tanaka is waiting in the car."

Sebastian's expression turned bitter. "Right." he mumbled, irritated, "Time to meet the new dad."

* * *

Waiting in a sleek, black 2003 Rolls-Royce Phantom VII was an older man with white hair and a moustache. He smiled good naturedly as he got out to shake Sebastian's hand. "Good to finally meet you, young man," Tanaka had a very clear, upper class, British accent and it became very clear what had first attracted Sebastian's mother to the old man. The manners and the car clearly announced family money and it wouldn't be untrue to say that Sebastian's family were completely broke. That didn't mean that their marriage had been arranged based purely on finances but it was an excellent bonus.

"Good to meet you too, Sir." Sebastian replied coolly; polite but reserved.

Tanaka let go of the young man's hand and turned to his wife. "Jennifer, dear, allow me to take the luggage."

Jenny smiled warmly at her husband, a slight flush dusting her cheeks as she allowed her attentive partner to relieve her of her burdens. Once the bags were safely secure in the boot of the pricey car, the small family got in and left the airport to take the teen to his new home.

"You're going to love the house. We decorated your room especially," Jenny said over her shoulder to her sulking son in the back seat. "There's so many antiques and you can have parties in the ball room and the gardens are exquisite..."

"Hang on..." Sebastian interrupted, alarmed. "Antiques? Ball room? How old is the house?"

Jenny rolled her eyes but it was her newly beloved husband who replied. "Ho ho ho… well, young man, the history of the Manor dates back long before the 19th century. It belonged to the Phantomhives, cousins of Queen Victoria herself and she often had them do special royal missions. A fire killed the family and it was passed to my family at the end of the 19th century when the last of the Phantomhives were found deceased. The youngest was not far off your age, Sebastian… now, what was his name…?"

"Nine...teenth…?" Sebastian's voice took on a higher pitch. "Deceased?"

His mother sighed dismissively at her son's negative reaction. "My dear, Sebastian has a ...thing about old houses. He doesn't like them much," she then directed her words to her son. "You will try make it work, won't you, Sebastian?"

Sebastian was silent.

"Sebastian?"

The teen shifted. "Sure." he replied, if only to appease his mother.

* * *

Driving slowly up the decorated driveway to the front of the house, even the angsty teen couldn't help but gawk at the splendour of the old manor house which could easily be dated two centuries. Ivy crawled up the aged stone walls and there were some renovations on the roof. The garden out front was the home to a hedge of white roses, obscuring the view to the side of the house. From the little that could be seen, the newest lady of the house was right; the gardens were indeed exquisite.

A small figure in a window on the third floor caught Sebastian's eye and the two stared at each other for a long moment before Sebastian gave the person in the window a cautious wave.

"Who are you waving at, sweetheart?" Jenny asked, following Sebastian's line of vision and then frowned. "It's not… it's not happening _again_ , is it?"

"Of course not, mom," Sebastian assured his mother, "I was getting a fly or something out my face. They're everywhere."

"It's the middle of Summer, my boy," Tanaka said cheerfully as he came around with some of the bags, "Expect bugs."

"Middle of Summer, huh?" Sebastian grumbled, glancing at the dark clouds overhead.

"Welcome to England," the old man laughed and led the way inside.

* * *

Babbling happily about the wonders of the house, Jennifer led Sebastian up to the third floor to see his room. It only took a second for Sebastian to note the problem with it but tried his best to avoid looking at the issue. To anyone else, the four-poster bed with deep red drapes, computer desk set up and private bathroom would be any teen's dream.

But then… most people couldn't see what Sebastian saw.

"Do you like it, Honey?" Jenny asked her son anxiously, glancing around the large room herself and set down the bags she was carrying by the wardrobe. "I got the Iron Maiden poster you like. And there's a tree by the window. Your computer is set up. Is it ok?"

Sebastian forced a smile. "Of course," he assured her, "Mind if I make myself at home? I'm pretty beat."

She immediately relaxed, "Right, jet lag..." Jenny explained to herself as if scolding herself for her own stupidity. "I'll leave you to it."

Once she left, Sebastian closed and locked the door behind him, tossed his bags onto his bed then addressed said problem. "Ok… who are you and what are you doing in my bedroom?"

Two big, sapphire blue eyes widened and a pair of lush pink lips parted as the boy they belonged to turned to see if there was someone behind him and then back at Sebastian before coming to the conclusion that… "So you _can_ see me?"


	2. Chapter 2

Sebastian wasn't sure how long he had been able to see things that other people couldn't; all he knew was that, when his grandmother passed on, she didn't leave like she was supposed to. Six year old Sebastian still chattered on to Grandma and was kept from the funeral after he had told his mom not to be so sad because it made Grandma sad too. After years of therapy and a couple of stays in a mental asylum, Sebastian stopped talking about Grandma and she eventually went away. He missed her but, once he all mention of the kind old woman ceased, he was slowly welcomed back into his mother's love and good graces. There were still… incidences but they were quickly dismissed with threats of more therapists and asylum stays. Sebastian no longer confides in Jennifer.

Now, here he was again with another ghost.

The two males in the bedroom stared uneasily at each other and Sebastian sat himself down on his bed, well aware of the boy watching him. It wasn't the first time the living young man had spoken to a ghost from a different era; spirits were quick to realise that they could be seen by Sebastian and were usually pretty eager to communicate. Sometimes they would ask for help to move on and sometimes they would ask for a favour like revenge or finding a family heirloom long buried to give back to living relatives. It was an inconvenience but it wasn't like you had much choice when the dead bother you persistently until they have their way.

"So," Sebastian began, watching the ghost currently occupying his room, "Why are you still here?"

Those big blue eyes blinked once as confusion knitted the boys brows together. "I don't know," he replied, shifting uncomfortably, unused to eyes being on him, "How can you see me?"

The living young man shrugged, "I just can," he paused, eyeing the boy who, at second glance, seemed to be a little older than just an adolescent; despite the deceased being of a slight frame, he had a little squareness to the jaw underneath those rounded cheeks, suggesting an age more of seventeen or eighteen rather than the thirteen years that Sebastian had originally and incorrectly supposed. Perhaps early to late childhood illness or cousin- cousin inbreeding had stunted this young aristocrat's growth which was remarkably common back in the 1800's, before modern medicine and genetic research. However, the result of whatever genetics ran through this teenager's veins, so to speak, was not unappealing; Sebastian had to confess privately to himself that there was a certain beauty to the pale creature standing awkwardly by the open window, "Do you have a name?"

The spirit hesitated for a moment, "I am Earl Ciel Vincent Phantomhive," he declared with obvious pride, "This… this was my room. Is my room. This is where I died."

"Well, Earl Ciel Phantomhive," sarcasm leaked into Sebastian's tones, "I am Sebastian Michaelis and this is my room now."

That full lower lip protruded slightly in a pout as the earl glared at the living teen. The death glare may have even been threatening if it wasn't for how lush and plump those lips were and how large and round Ciel's eyes were. In fact, it just struck Sebastian as quite adorable. A smile pulled at the corners of the warm blooded male's lips despite his attempts to conceal it but the grin kept spreading.

"What?" the earl demanded hotly, infuriated by Sebastian's amusement.

Acting on impulse, the dark-haired young man stood up and made his way over to the glaring ghost, leaning in and whispering, "You're cute when you're mad."

Ghosts, as a general rule, don't have blood but something coloured Ciel's face as he blushed. He became very flustered, stepping back and nearly fell back but Sebastian caught the spirit's arm before he could topple over. Of course, this had the earl pale again as he stared at the hand gripping his arm so tightly. Perhaps Ciel would have gasped if he could breathe. As it was, his mouth was opening and closing in his mute astonishment, his eyes sliding up to meet the alive ones gazing down at him calmly. For a moment, neither moved until Sebastian helped steady the earl.

Ghosts, contrary to popular belief, are not transparent. As far as Sebastian could tell, interacting with something stuck in the veil meant being able to touch and feel it just as if they were in the mortal realm. He had often wondered if, perhaps, the reason he could interact wit the veil was that maybe he was partly in the veil himself but that would only make sense if he was in a comer or something. In truth, Sebastian had absolutely no idea what the fuck either.

"You… can touch spirits?" Ciel asked, his voice a little high.

"Yeah, I guess so," Sebastian replied as he removed his hand.

"You guess?" there was the note of disbelief in the earl's tone and he moved around the living, which was pretty peculiar because he could just walk through literally anyone else, and sat on the bed.

Sebastian was used to the shock that came when he revealed that he could touch spirits but, usually that was when he was trying to wrestle them into the afterlife. He decided to take pity on this lost soul and sat in the chair by his desk. "Look, as far as I know, my job is to help spirits move on. Usually that means helping with unfinished business or, if you're particularly violent like a poltergeist, I can sort of kick your ass into whatever is next," he explained, keeping his voice soft and reassuring, "Do you have unfinished business, Ciel?"

"I don't know," Ciel hesitated, "There was a fire. I remember… burning. I… I want to know who killed my parents. Bring them to justice if I can."

It was Sebastian's turn to hesitate. "Is this justice or… revenge?"

Those sapphire eyes locked with maroon. "Both."


	3. Chapter 3

Warm water sprayed down on lightly tanned flesh from years of living in sun like a summer rain, washing away tropical scented suds from sable black locks of unkept hair that latched to pierced ears and the back of a tattooed neck. A small black raven taking flight was inked beneath the base of the skull was joined by what one could only assume were six more ravens in the distance, trailing down the owner's neck. Sebastian had this done the moment he had turned seventeen only two years ago, a birthday present from his mother after he had been declared more or less sane.

That tends to happen when you stop talking about seeing things no one else can see.

Sebastian often wondered what would have happened had his father stayed, if he had ever known him at all. He had been the result of a one night stand, as far as he had been told, a man who had been the perfect gentleman right up until the moment they had kissed and the revealed a passion that Jennifer had been unable to resist. They had one night which had resulted of a child but, when the man had been told of the pregnancy, he had vanished into the wind. It was an unfortunately common story which meant that Sebastian only had his mother's name and no way to find the donor of half his genes.

Not that he minded but, with this gift… maybe it was hereditary?

Turning off the water and emerging from the shower, Sebastian wrapped a towel around his waist and trotted back into his bedroom as another towel dried his hair. A soft squeak gripped his attention and he paused, looking up at the flushed ghost that was inhabiting the bedroom, fidgeting uncomfortably as he tried to advert his eyes from the half naked living teen. Sebastian set the towel down, "Why dont you leave?" he asked the earl with some amusement.

"Why do you parade round bare and naked when you know I'm in here?" Ciel retorted, still bright red and looking everywhere except Sebastian.

Hands on hips, the modern teen arched an eyebrow. "This is my room."

"It was my room first."

A sigh left the living teen and he conceded, figuring that there was little point in arguing with the dead. "If we're going to live like this, we need some ground rules," he began then frowned as a snort emitted from the ghost. "What?" he asked but this only seemed to amuse the earl even more. "What?" he demanded again almost defensively.

"If we are 'going to _live_ like this'," Ciel repeated with a grin.

Sebastian rolled his eyes but couldn't help but smiled in return. Usually the dead were so touchy about being, well, dead; it was rare to find someone willing to make jokes about it. "Funny. Real amusing," the sarcasm wasn't quite as strong as it could have been, "If we're going to be sharing the room, we need ground rules. I can't have you embarrassed every time I need to change or take a shower."

Ciel shot the other male a glare and threw a nearby tshirt at him. "I will turn my back. Just get dressed," and he turned around.

Laughing, Sebastian began to get dressed.

While the other dressed, the earl observed the shelves and approached the books. There were familiar names there that caught his attention; Charles Dickens, Jane Austen and Walter Scott. "These are still being printed?" he asked, glancing back at this roommate without thinking only to find himself staring at a broad shouldered back with light muscle toning. He turned back around as Sebastian looked up to see what the earl was talking about. "These must all be more than a hundred years old by now," Ciel added, keeping his voice even.

"Yeah," Sebastian agreed as he pulled on a tshirt and approached, "A lot of people read them for the sake of it but I'm studying English Literature in college which involves studying the style of an author's writing and taking into account the time of when they were written. At the moment, I'm reading Oscar Wilde's Picture of Dorian Gray. It was scandalous when it came out but, by today's standards, it's quite tame. Perhaps you would enjoy reading it. You seem to have a couple of things in common with that story."

"Like what?" the earl asked as Sebastian picked up the book he had been describing and handed it to the ghost.

"Like homoerotic undertones."

Ciel dropped the book like it had just caught fire as his mouth opened and closed in outrage.

"Oh, please," Sebastian retrieved the book and tapped the earl on the head with it. "No one important cares about homosexuals any more. That's so last century," his last words were exaggerated and sarcastic but said with a smile. "Besides, blushing whenever I take my tshirt off really gives you away."

A pout formed on the earl's face. "I was born in a time where people kept their clothes on in company," he protested, "Excuse me if the notion of nakedness is embarrassing."

This was a fair point and Sebastian backed off, placing The Picture of Dorian Gray back on the shelf and made his way to his underwear drawer where he pulled out a pair of socks, pulling them on. "I suppose that should be one of our rules. Privacy in the bathroom is non-negotiable," there was a long pause where Sebastian watched the earl pull out a book with a dragon on the cover. "Dropping books is off the table too."

Ciel ignored him, reading the back of the book. "Eragon?" he read the blurb quickly, "Can I borrow your books?"

"Yeah, of course," there was something like excitement in his voice, thrilled that someone else shared his love of reading. "Anything you want. I can get more books too if you want anything."

A smile lit up the earl's face as he looked up at the other, "Thanks."

* * *

At dinner, Sebastian had left Ciel to read in their room and sat down with Jenny and Tanaka to eat. It was uncomfortable being served by people when they weren't in the restaurant. Granted, they were being paid, but it wasn't long ago that Sebastian himself was being paid to wait on other people. He wondered if, perhaps, that was one of the reasons his mother had been so keen to marry her new husband. As much as he loved his mom, it wasn't beneath him to suspect she may have turned into a gold-digger.

"How do you like your room, young man?" Tanaka asked cheerfully.

"It's fine," Sebastian replied as he began to eat, "I might move some things around but the room itself is fine. I appreciate the private bathroom."

Tanaka nodded.

"You must be tired, Honey," Jenny said to her son, "Jet lag hit me pretty bad when I first got here."

"Yeah," Sebastian agreed.

The rest of the dinner was spent in awkward silence as they ate. Sebastian didn't blame his mother for finding someone and marrying but he had never met the older man before and had yet to render judgement, to decide if this rich, English, polite, old guy was good enough to be with his mom. It wasn't that he was overly protective of her but it had been just them for the longest time and it had been thrown out of balance quite suddenly, without warning and he had just uprooted his whole life, loosing friends just to make Jennifer happy.

* * *

Back in his room, Sebastian took off his trousers and climbed into bed despite it barely even being 6:30pm and pulled his duvet over him. He looked around for Ciel who was watching him with those big blue eyes and he motioned for the ghost to join him. Without question, Ciel got up and lay next to his roommate. They stared at each other for a moment as Sebastian reached over to push strands of hair out of the earl's face.

"So, are you going to tell me about it?" Sebastian asked, "The night you died."

Ciel pinched his lips together. "I don't know how," he admitted, "How do you talk about being burned alive?"

The living smiled slightly. "Then... tell me about your life."


	4. Chapter 4

Born 14th December 1875, the same year Hans Christian Anderson passed and a year before the Queen adopted the title of Empress of India, Ciel Vincent Phantomhive was brought into this world with all the advantages of being a child of high society and of royal blood. Not too distantly related to Queen Victoria herself, it wasn't entirely unusual for the widow to visit with an occupying feast with a ball and fifty elite guests, each more wealthy than the next or someone with an extraordinary accomplishment such as an artist or a novelist the Queen herself was interested in.

Growing up, the young lord shared an illness with his mother, Rachael Phantomhive, along with his own asthma and allergies which he was only able to survive through due to the money his family owned and the doctors they had access to. Books were his only escape from the bed his health regularly confided him to but only books his mother and father had in the library. It was rare for the feeble youth to leave the manor and rumours spread that he was a hunchback, a weak cripple with little wits and would die long before his parents.

When Ciel turned thirteen, he was formally introduced to society and shocked the world by being an intelligent, polite young man with all the beauty and grace expected of his station. More so, in fact and it wasn't long before he was publicly engaged to his cousin, Elizabeth Midford. She was delighted to find out that her husband would be a handsome, respectable young man with family money and a family company to back it up. He was… less thrilled about the engagement. For the longest time, he had no idea why. It wasn't that there was anything wrong with Elizabeth; she was beautiful, kind and generous. She sang with sweetness, she fenced like a master and was accomplished in three languages, finances, art and fashion.

She was the sunshine in his rain.

But he didn't love her.

She blossomed into a beautiful woman, never wore heels so she could be the same height as her sickly fiancé and smothered him with affection and adoration. Nothing vexed her or enraged her and any upsets were quickly solved. She was all smiles and visited her beloved when his health took a turn, reading to him or just keeping him company. It was a little irritating but Ciel appreciated her enthusiasm and kindness but he still couldn't love her.

It wasn't her fault. She wasn't unlovable. Ciel was just incapable of loving her.

Despite his health and the arranged marriage, life was better than many living in England.

The days leading up to August 26th, the young lord noticed a slight change in his household. Whispers behind closed doors, his parents stopped talking when he entered the room and there were less guests in the house. The strangeness heightened when new staff was hired, staff with skills. Bardroy with military training, Meirin who was a famous assassin and Finnian who had the strength of ten men. The meaning wasn't lost on the young man; his parents were scared that something was going to happen, someone was after them. In trying to protect their son, they were telling him nothing. This much he could gather on his own but the specifics seemed to allude him despite snooping in his father's study to investigate.

Waking up to the smell of smoke, coughing and far too hot beneath his covers, Ciel scrambled out of his bed and rushed for the door. He could hear the crackling even as he opened it and rushed down the hall to his parents room. Sitting at the vanity with her throat slit, Rachael was already dead and burning with blood pooling onto her taffeta dress. Her husband was only feet away, propped up against the wall, his hands literally holding in his intestines.

"Run!" he gasped as soon as he saw his son, "Run!" and the life drained from his face as his arms went lax, his eyes still staring unseeing at his son who turned and ran back to his room.

Slamming the door and locking it behind him, he registered the pain in the middle of his back and felt the blade cutting into him withdraw as he dropped to his knees. A male figure in black casually opened the door and left as the fire rapidly approached. There was nothing Ciel could do as he fell to his side, staring out into the corridor and the fire closed in, smoke clogging his airways.

The agony was intense but it was ultimately the blood-loss that killed him long before he could be burned alive.

* * *

There was silence as Sebastian watched the earl cry. The tears left no marks on the bed, wetting only the young lord's cheeks and Sebastian's fingers as he wiped those tears with his thumb. Ciel pinched his lips together and squeezed his eyes shut to try and stop himself from crying more but this failed when Sebastian wrapped his arms around the Victorian teenager. Sobbing quietly, he returned the embrace tightly until he calmed down, which took a while.

"You alright?"

Ciel nodded against the other's chest, just listening to the beating heart. They stayed like that for some time as Sebastian just held the boy in his arms. Eventually, they parted and the smaller young man offered his new friend a watery smile. "I had no intention of imposing on you like this," Ciel said apologetically as he sat up, wiping his face on his sleeve. "There was no real chance of me telling someone about this before. It's been a long century."

Sebastian chuckled softly, "I bet," he agreed, "What have you been doing all this time?"

"Reading," Ciel admitted, "Whatever was around when people moved in. Then they brought in… television and I've learnt how to use that for the most part."

Smiling in amusement, Sebastian closed his eyes. "At least you had that," he murmured and yawned.

It wasn't long until the living fell asleep and the deceased took up reading for the night.


	5. Chapter 5

Sebastian obviously went to the only place he could think of that held vast amounts of information about any of the manor houses in the country side: the nearest library. He went in with his backpack over his shoulder and the hood of his jacket pulled over his head. He made his way into the archives to find newspapers from the eighteen hundreds only to be told that they had been scanned onto the computer database in the library as the newspapers were far to fragile to be handled.

Using key words like ‘fire’ and ‘Phantomhive’, Sebastian quickly found what he was looking for with a black and white photo of the burning manor house, large letters reading ‘Mysterious Manor House Murder’. Sebastian didn’t need to read the report; he had only really been confirming the whole story. Now he knew that the Phantomhives had been murdered for definite rather than a hallucination of the dying mind, Sebastian had something to go on. He printed out the article and tucked it away in his bag before getting up. He wasn’t exactly sure he was going to investigate a murder that had happened more than a century ago so he figured the police station was probably his best bet for some advise at least.

* * *

The station was a half hour bus ride from the library. It was a larger building than Sebastian expected, more like an office block rather than the little quaint thing he had seen watching British television. He went in, awkwardly gripping the strap of his bag until an officer stopped him. She was slender with short brunette curls and a friendly smile as she set a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Hey, kid,” she greeted, her accent more North Somerset rather than west London. “lookin’ lost.”

“Er… no,” Sebastian pulled out the news report, “I’ve just moved in to the Phantomhive manor and I was wondering about the murders there. Do you think someone could tell me more about it?”

She took it and read through the article. “That’s an old case,” she mused, “We’re not supposed to show case files to the public but… you live there? You’re Tanaka’s boy?”

“Step son,” he corrected quickly.

She smiled, “I’m Paula,” she said, offering her hand which Sebastian shook.

“Sebastian,” he replied.

“Well, Sebastian,” Paula handed back the article and gestured for the young man to follow her, “Let’s see what we can dig up about some old murders.”

“Will you get into trouble?”

“Nah,” she chuckled, “Everyone involved is dead.”

* * *

The box of files lay half empty while Sebastian studied the case, several suspects and the autopsies. The photo of the young Ciel Phantomhive stared out at Sebastian from across the years, those big blue eyes dulled by the black and white photography. He tore his eyes away from the photo and read through the police report: the family was found by Madam Red, no signs of forced entry and the bodies had been found in their bedrooms. They had all been murdered before the fire had been set, a fire that had removed any evidence or any leads pointing to the killer.

Sebastian scanned over the suspects, all prominent business men with more than enough money and contacts to hire an assassin. He pulled out his phone and snapped photos of the suspects to show Ciel when he got home, hoping that one of these men were someone the ghost would recognise. He had read about the Funtom company owned by the Phantomhives’ so Ciel was bound to have met at least one of them. His eyes glanced again at the photo of the youngest Phantomhive and found himself slipping it out of the paper-clip and into his pocket before packing away the files.

“You done?” Paula asked, looking up from her desk as Sebastian stood up.

“Yeah,” he said, “It was never solved?”

“Oh, not exactly,” Paula got up, coming around her desk. “There was an assassin couple called Ash Landers and Angela Blanc who actually carried out the murders but we never found out who employed them.”

“Huh,” Sebastian handed her the box, “Thanks.”

“Any time, sweetie,” she smiled warmly and walked the young man out. “Nice meeting you.”

“Yeah,” he gave her a wave as he left, “Bye.”

* * *

The sun was setting behind the manor house when Sebastian returned home at half eight that evening. He made his way down to the kitchens where his dinner had been set aside beside the microwave. Hungry, he ate quickly and his plate was taken by the cook who ushered him out now he had finished. Sebastian made his way up to his room to find Ciel lying on his bed, reading Dorian Grey.

“Enjoying the homoerotic undertones?” Sebastian teased.

Ciel jumped, flinging the book to the side as he rolled onto his side. “Don’t sneak up on me!”

The human just laughed, kicking off his shoes and sat on the bed. He pulled out his phone as he lay back, “So I went investigating,” Sebastian informed his room-mate. “I looked into what happened here. We have the names of the assassins but not who employed you.”

“Assassins? I thought there was one,” Ciel said, frowning. “I mean… there was definitely only one person.”

Sebastian arched an eyebrow. “You saw who killed you?”

“Well… no,” his chalky cheeks flooded with some colour, “But I heard one set of foot steps, not two. My parents died separately. Father was by the door. He must have come in when mother was… and then I died here. If there were two of them, would I not have died at the same time? Two rooms, two assassins?”

“I’m not an assassin,” the living being watched the deceased, “But that would probably be how I’d do it. You’re not just some rich kid, are you?”

Ciel smiled almost smugly, “No. My family where the watchdogs of the Queen,” he said proudly, “We made it our business to know the movements of an assassin, to think like thieves and murders. Someone wants to steal the Crown Jewels? Guaranteed we already knew about it. Someone assassinated the next in line for the Persian throne? We already knew who did it if we didn’t do it ourselves. We served our cousins on the English throne, whatever they demanded.”

“That’s some speech,” Sebastian said as all the blood rushed to his groin. “You sound pretty dangerous.”

“Danger is just part of being a Phantomhive,” Ciel replied.

Without hesitation, Sebastian gripped the teen’s collar and pulled him into a kiss.


End file.
